Mephisto's Advocate
by templetonfugate
Summary: So let's just pretend that this is actually a comic book universe, because that holds a hell of a lot of implications. Gwen Poole & Cecil. LJ comment-fic prompt. One-Shot.


"Hey, Gwen, can I ask you something?"

With one swift motion of her arm, she pulled her sword from the sheath on her back and thrust it forward, the tip gleaming in the light.

"No," she replied, smirking.

Cecil rolled his eyes while simultaneously pushing his hand forward. He didn't go straight through it, not like the ghosts in movies did; the dude was a lot of things, but Cecil was no post-mortem Shadowcat. His hand, almost transparent as window glass, stretched out and around, never quite touching the blade.

"I was just joking." Gwen waved her sword absently through the air, at times thrusting it forward as though she were attacking some unseen foe (and oh man did those exist) and other times waving it around like it was a magic wand. "What do ya need to know?"

Cecil looked to the ground, which sat a good meter below where his feet were. Raising a hand, he began to scratch at the back of his neck. "I guess I've just been thinking about what you said, you know, about this being a comic book world."

"It all clicked, right? Once you think about it, it makes a looooot of sense." She giggled. "I mean spider people and inhumans - sounds like something straight from the funny pages."

"I read comics too," Cecil responded, "er, read."

"Being dead kept you from your LCS? I can go pick up your subscription if you want."

Cecil shook his head. "Hardly my biggest concern right now." He waved his hand absently. "Well, as I was about to say earlier, the comics I read didn't have all that stuff in them. Why read about superheroes when you can just turn on the TV and watch them fight bad guys live?"

Gwen opened her mouth to reply - who wouldn't want to read about their favorite TV heroes? - but the reply never left her lips. "Well," she said slowly, "what comics do you read?"

"Oh, uh, you know... Love triangles, teenage misadventures, high school drama."

"Mundane stuff?"

"Mundane?" Cecil scoffed. "It might not be guys in robot suits fighting each other, but I like it. I've read a lot of issues. Not even the emo reboot with murder is that far out, once you-" He stopped mid-sentence.

"Oh yeah, I know what you mean. I've read those too!"

Cecil's face contorted as though he were sucking on an invisible lemon. "This isn't what I wanted to talk about!"

Gwen held back a sigh. A fellow fourth-wall breaking buddy would have been rad.

"Look, let's just say that you're right and we are in a comic book universe. That stuff would be focused on a superhero, right?"

Gwen nodded. "I mean, who wants to read about a random background nobody?"

"Well, I don't mean for you to take this wrong, Gwen, but..." He bit his lip. "Aren't you the bad guy?"

Gwen blinked.

He raised his hands. "I mean, you kind of helped to get me killed. Not that I'm mad or anything, being a criminal accomplice to your uncle isn't the safest thing. But you buy tons of guns without a license on black market, dark net websites. You hang out with known criminals besides me and have been to jail."

"The NYPD would love to put me back there." Gwen chuckled. People didn't just hole up in Connecticut motels without good reason.

"Oh, and you worked for M.O.D.O.K."

"Not on purpose!" Gwen squinted her nose. "I'd hench for Doctor Doom or the High Evolutionary before him. And he was the guy who actually killed you!"

"I know, I know. Like I said, I'm not holding a grudge." He sighed. "It's just... Gwen, you don't exactly seem like a hero to me."

"I've been with the Champions."

"The odds are still stacked against your favor."

Gwen rubbed her chin. Her eyes wandered over the room, for the first time really taking in her surroundings. Sure the sheets to her bed her white and the wallpaper wasn't too cracked, but there had to be a reason it cost less than fifty dollars a night to stay there.

It was no superhero hideaway, that was for sure. Hired mercenary or not, Avengers and X-Mansions cost bundles of money.

By her bed sat a large suitcase. Some clothes were stuck inside, along with her laptop, but most of it was assorted handguns (with the safety on - if Cecil was right, she was at the very least an evil genius) and knives. She even had a shuriken and escrima sticks stashed away in there for good measure. So the average amateur detective might find that suspicious.

And hey, maybe Marvel had a long history of villain solos. Magneto, Doctor Doom, Black Cat - they all got their own titles for good reasons beyond corporate meddling.

Right?

Gwen shrugged. "I guess you're right, Cecil."

"So you're not mad?"

"Why would I be?" She grinned. "Everybody secretly loves rooting for the villain."


End file.
